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Hello Jim, old fellow! I’m delighted to see you! 
How d’ye do? I hear you’ve been over to the States, 
travelling through the Wild West, I suppose?” 

“Well, I didn’t do much travelling; I spent most of 
my time in Philadelphia.” 

“In Philadelphia! Why whatever did you manage to 
do with yourself there?” 

“Well, if you’ll meet me at the Club to-night. I’ll 
tell you.” 

* ^ * 

The experiences of Captain Brooks, as related to his 
friend are set down in the following pages. 




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HILADELPHIA SOCIETY PEOPLE are awfully 
snobbish and stuck up. I will give you an 
instance. Two very wealthy families a few 
years ago were united by marriage. Rather a 
slender tie, you say ? but by no means a rope 
' of sand in Philadelphia. The head of the girl’s family 
was tremendously rich. He made his money in trade, I 
believe. The young fellow’s family was very aristocratic, 
and had been for a generation and a half. I believe his 
grand-father was an Irish emigrant ; but, as he providen- 
tially died about twenty years ago, the brogue had been 
forgotten. Well, the aristocrats of one generation and a 
half were horrified at the idea of the prospective head of 
their house marrying the daughter of a plebeian trades- 
man, and society for some time talked of cutting him. 


5 


.1 

Blit a merciful providence put an end to the earthly career, 
of the wealthy tradesman, and his daughter, of course, 
bloomed forth as an aristocrat of half a generation. ’ She 
would have been a full-blown one-generation aristocrat if 
she had been born after her father became wealthy, but * as 
she did not come into the world with a silver spoon in her 
mouth, she only ranked as an H. B. A. t 

You would hardly imagine from this that the people of 
Philadelphia dealt very greatly in romance ; but a re- 
markable exception was brought under my notice. A 
young lawyer, or stock broker, — I don’t remember which — 
was engaged to be married to a charming girl. They be^ 
came engaged in the usual prosaic manner. The marriage 
never came off, however, for a very good reason. But I’ll 
give you the rest of the story as it was told me by a young 
fellow, who has since written a gushing novel that all the 
very young girls are raving about. Listen : ■ ■ : 

“The family are at dinner, and Ned is telling one .of 
his very funniest stories, when Mildred (the heroine of the 
romance) starts, ejaculating, ‘ I heard a scream ! ’ The 
next m^oment a servant girl comes dashing into the room, 
her garments all ablaze. Mildred gazes in terror at the 
poor girl, while Fred seizes a rug and quickly wrapping it 


6 


about her, extinguishes the flames. Then Mildred faints 
i in Fred’s arms, although Tom, her affianced husband, is 
vby her side.’’ Tableau. 

■ The story winds up by Mildred, while still under the 
influence of her sudden faint, clasping Fred to her breast 
and whispering, I love ! I love you ! You are my hero ! ” 
It is hardly necessary for me to say that Tom backs out 
haughtily and Fred lakes his place. 

* ^ 

* 

The first reception I attended in Philadelphia, I was 
struck dumb with amazement, at the peculiar manners and 
customs of the people. For instance, say a man at a 
reception, sees a lady whom he knows very well, he’ll go 
up to her, dig her in the ribs, pinch her arms, and finish 
by pulling down her hair. All this is done to show that 
he is accustomed to mix in the best society, and so feels 
perfectly at home. If he sees a girl he does not know 
well, and who, therefor^:, would not allow such liberties, 
he,- like Ko-Ko, begins to look out for a substitute, and 
should a man happen to be passing whom he knows, he 
calls him by name, What, you here?” and knocks him 
down. 


7 


It took me a long while to get used to this kind of f 
thing. I remember I was taken to one reception, where I j 
was snubbed right and left. At last, my friend ventured 
to ask a girl I had just left, what I had done to deserve it - 
all. She replied that I had done nothing, that was just it; 

I hadn’t got the /r^e and manners of a gentleman. 
Oh, you know, that was too much. But I met a very nice - 
girl later on. I was presented to her just as she had had 
her hair pulled down. 

She said, speaking of her assailant, ‘‘Oh! he’s such a 
dear fellow. You know, he is of a very old family, and is 
asked everywhere. Nothing is ever given in Philadelphia 
that Albert is not invited to.” 

At this juncture, the individual under discussion jumped 
backwards, to escape a blow that was aimed at him by a 
friend, and, as he did so, lit on the train of a lady’s dress, 
tearing it out by the roots. He did not seem the least bit 
embarrassed, but laughed, asked the lady’s pardon, and 
continued to talk and shout as before. 

‘‘How very delightful,” said I, “to be so well, bred, 
that one can destroy life and property without feeling 
awkward.” 

“Oh!” said my fair companion; “A1 never killed 


anyone outright. - The* worst thing he ever did, was to 
kick the inside out of a piano, whilst laughing at one of 
-his own jokes.” 

One reception I went to presented a disgusting spectacle. 
Two thirds of the fellows got roaring full and the one 
third that remained sober, had to take the ladies home. I 
saw five home, and they all lived in opposite directions ; 
Tut that’s my luck. You shake your head? but I assure 
you, they were ladies, and I give them the credit of not 
knowing what would happen. What astonished me more 
' than anything, was that the society people received these 
■fellows, whom they had seen lying under the table, just as 
though nothing had happened, and I am afraid some of the 
ladies thought all the more of them. It is a failing of the 
Philadelphia women, (or perhaps I should say girls) that 
they think all the more of a fellow if he is fast ; this leads 
the boys (principally college boys) to drink, smoke, and 
talk big about all the disgusting places they are in the 
habit of frequenting, in the hopes that it may reach the 
ears of some fair one; a sad state of things indeed, for in- 
stead of a girl having an influence for good over a fellow, 
as she should, I am afraid most of them have a very bad 
influence. ' 


9 


I was very much interested in the different specimens of 
Society men I met. While walking up Walnut street one 
night, after an evening at the Chestnut Street Opera House, 
I met a young fellow I had been mtroduced to at an 
Assembly the night before. He shook my hand cordially, 
and a conversation something after the following style 
ensued ; 

“ Bin painting the town red I suppose; — But you aren’t 
going home yet surely.” 

“ I don’t quite grasp your meaning? ” I replied. 

“Oh don’t try to bluff me off in that way. I’m no 
gilly I catch onto a racket myself everynow and again. 
Ask some of the gay boys about town whether they don’t 
know ‘ Little Jim.’ ” 

“Ah.” 

“If there’s anything I love its Bohemia. I like to 
ramble round among the side paths, unfrequented by the 
general run. I like to feel myself at home where most 
fellows feel awkward. Why I’ve served as a supe in 
Kiralfy’s company. Don’t give it away though; but I 
know a chorus girl.” 

“You don’t tell me? ” 


lO 


' “Yes. She’s a pretty young widow. A little charmer. 
1 kissed her the other day, and jove if she did’nt take it 
quite quietly.” - • 

■ “’How very kind of her.” 

“ I tell you she’s a daisy. I go and see her all the time. 
She says she likes to hear me talk.” 

“' How very eccentric.” 

“ Oh well of course she’s a regular Bohemian, but 
there’s nothing off about her: — oh no not at all. You 
know its a great joke when I talk to Society girls about the 
girls I know behind the tapers; one girl in particular. I’m 
a little gone on. When I mention the Bohemian’s name 
to her she flashes her twinklers, snaps her tweezers and 
slings daggers; I tell you its immense to hear her say, 
‘ How dare you talk to me about these women ? you ought 
to be ashamed of yourself.’ Well don’t let me interfere, 
you know. If there’s only one girl, why tip the wink and 
I’ll skin out. Well so long, ta ta — see you again.” And 
he was gone. 

I was amused, at the innocent boy’s prattle — for he was 
really an innocent — not angered. As Mark Twain puts it 
“ one cannot keep up a grudge against a vacuum.” 


There’s a part of the city they call West Philadelphia. 
I went to call on a girl there once; a Miss Stopgap. 
While I was there, two of her* friends came in they were 
deuced pretty, but devlish noisy. They talked so fast, I 
couldn’t hear a Word they said. Another peculiar thing 
was that they treated me just as though I' were a post, 
and kept all their charming conversation to themselves.- I 
sat patiently waiting for them to let me say something ; 
for I should like to have liad’a little talk with them ; but 
the opportunity never occurred. I sat there for ‘half an 
hour; during which time, the yells and shrieks, those girls 
gave vent to, made my blood curdle. I have often heard 
the shriek of a half civilized enemy, also the howl of’ a 
dog in pain ; but both these similies fail to adequately 
describe the amount of suffering those girls put into their 
howls. I suppose very likely, they had some Indian blood 
in their veins. Well after half an hour’s lung practice, 
they both simultaneously sprang to their feet^ and with a 
wave of the hand, and the expression “ S. Y. L. ’’(which 
means over there, see you later) they were gone and I 
was once more left alone with Miss Stopgap. As soon 
as she had recovered her breath, we proceeded with our 
conversation, but it was fully ten minutes before she could 
regulate her voice. 


12 


Three times, in the course of a season, West Philadelphia 
is. visited -by city people after night-fall; when the 
Dramatic does its little to lift the funeral gloom which 
eternally hangs over the transpontine world. I went to 
one of these affairs once, but hope sincerely that I shall 
never have to do so again. The acting was execrable, and 
the so-called supper afterwards was worse. I was told 
there was-to be dancing, but I didn’t wait. The play and 
the supper were quite sufficient. On the whole I think 
that West Philadelphia’s small affairs are preferable to her 
grand attempts, although they are rather childish. There 
is something piquante in seeing men and women of twenty- 
five and upwards playing kiss-in-the-ring, puss-in-the-cor- 
ner, or blind-man’s-buff. Well West Philadelphia may 
have a future before her, but for the sake of that future let 
us hope she will, never overtake it. 

* 

-The Philadelphia theatres, (that is to say the fashionable 
theatres), have the stage divided into three parts ; the play 
one really goes to see being given in the middle section. 
The Qther two sections one might call side shows, for as a 
rule, they have no interest in the play, but devote their 
time to annoying the audience. The people who act in 


13 


these side shows are generally society people, who are 
there for their own amusement entirely. Somptimes, how- 
ever, they are very entertaining. I attended “ Victor, the. 
Bluestocking” one night, at the Chestnut Street Opera 
House, and between the acts a box party afforded the 
audience great amusement. There were about fifty people 
in a box, meant to seat about twelve, they were all talking 
at once, and gesticulating frantically ; at last the top gallery 
burst into applause. If these people had subsided when 
the curtain rose it would have been all very well ; but as 
tliey had made such a success between the acts, they 
seemed to see no reason why the good work should not go 
on, and so became a great source of annoyance. Speak- 
ing to a friend about this some time later, he told me that 
once Genevieve Ward was playing at the same theatre, and 
some people in a box were creating such a hubbub during 
the performance, that she walked up and told them, she 
would be delighted to resign in their favor if they thought 
they could give a better show, or words to that effect. 

The ladies in America, as a rule go to the theatre, to 
show off their clothes. One wouldn’t mind that so much, 
if they would only leave their bonnets at home, but when 
a woman is sitting down you know, her dress does not 


show ; '• so- they put all their money in the bonnet 
and as a rule get their money’s worth. But the poor un- 
fortunate who sits behind, does not get his money’s worth 
by any means, for it is only occasionly he is enabled to 
get a glimpse of the stage. I would sooner have them show 
off their necks and arms than their bonnets ; deuced sight 
prettier, don’t you know and less in the way. 

The streets, and the people on them too, were a source 
of intense interest to me at first. It seemed so strange to 
see the pavement of Chestnut Street, the principal street in 
the city, crowded with women in silks and velvets. I was 
told that in the mornings all the really best people would 
promenade on Chestnut street for hours, but that in the 
afternoon they would stay in doors or walk on some other 
street, but never on that particular one. Nobody seemed 
to be able to tell me why, but I found out afterwards that 
girls who were seen on Chestnut street in the afternoon 
were considered fast. I saw quite a number of nice girls 
there all the same, but they always seemed ashamed of 
themselves, and when they met an acquaintance smiled and 
giggled as though they had been caught doing something 
dreadfully naughty. I walked a good deal on this street 


5 


when I had nothing better to do, and constantly met the 
same people. One girl I remember distinctly ; she walked 
deiicedly like a drunken man and lounged from one side of 
the pavement to the other, regardless of the amusement she 
created. She had a very reckless habit of winking at 
every good looking man in the street. I was rather 
surprised when somebody told me she was related to one of 
the oldest families in the city, which traced its ancestry 
back to some officer who distinguished himself in the 
first rebellion. 

Speaking of old families. There was a very sad thing 
happened to a very old family, whilst I was in Philadel- 
phia. You must know, first of all, that Philadelphia is 
noted as being a great place for teas ; and very often some 
hundreds of invitations are sent out. Well, the year 
before I visited the city, a very old family concluded to 
give a tea. One thousand eight hundred and ninety-seven 
invitations were sent ;.but to the great satisfaction of the 
hostess, the seven came and the one thousand eight 
hundred and ninety sent their cards. But now comes 
the tragic part of my story. The following year, this 
same old family gave another tea ; sending out about the 
same number of invitations. But, alas, a rumor spread 


[6 


abroad ‘‘that there was to be cake'^ The afternoon ar- 
rived, the doors were thrown open, the crowd rushed in. 
Everyone came in, saluted the hostess, and made a dive 
for the- cake basket. Two minutes after the first ring at 
the door bell the seven pieces of cake, that had been so 
nicely arranged round the sides of the silver basket, were 
gone. More cake was ordered, only to vanish in the 
same mysterious way. ' And all the while the crowd 
poured in. “Standing room only,” had been posted up 
on the outside for a quarter of an hour. Soon the house 
was full ; and an eager crowd waited outside for a chance 
to get in. As a person left, the footman who guarded the 
door, would announce: “Room for one more! Step up 
front there, please.” (I was told he had been a car con- 
ductor at one time and so was accustomed to this sort of 
thing.) Well, the hostess grew pale and anxious; the 
servant had been sent out three times by the back gate, 
and now the corner grocery was cleaned out. A loaf of 
bread was now resorted to, but it was as a needle in a 
bundle of hay ; it was no sooner brought in than it was 
gone.. The hostess grew frantic. “Bring in that cold 
tomato soup that was left at dinner! ” she shouted ; “and 
let them satiate their vile appetites.” The soup was brought 


7 


in and still there were mouths that remained unfed. The 
old lady shook violently ; and those who were receiving 
with her could see she was laboring under some terrible 
excitement which she strove to keep down. At last, with 
a wild scream, she threw up her hands, shouted 
‘‘Fire ! Fire! ! ” and then fell to the floor in a swoon. A 
terrible panic ensued and. several people were trampled to 
death. For three months the better-half of the head of 
that old family lay with brain fever, at the gates of death, 
and in her ravings she would call out: “Cake! Cake!! 
More Cake!!!” She was finally removed to a hospital, 
and the house and furniture went under the Sheriff’s 
hammer, to pay for that long to be remembered, but 
terrible tea. 

* 

* 

In my humble opinion the most interesting part of 
Philadelphia life, is “Boaston.” This is a game which has 
been invented by some clever fellow to take the place of 
“Poker;” you see, ladies would not think of playing 
“Poker,” but enjoy playing “Boaston,” which really 
amounts to the same thing. Perhaps you think they don’t 
play for money? But they do. Of course they don’t plank 
down the hard cash, for that would be unladylike, but they 


i8 


play for chips ; the person finishing with the greatest num- 
ber getting a prize, which of course, costs money. So that 
it’s practically the same thing. You say they lose nothing? 
I:hold they lose the prize, for when the game commences 
the chips are divided equally. Now the chips represent 
the prize, therefore, the prize belongs equally to all, and 
at the close of the game only one person gets it, so the 
others lose it, Q. E. D. 

These parties abound in scandal-mongering, ice cream 
and flirtation. The girls, as a rule, do not bring escorts, 
but trust to finding some fellow who “ IVi// be delighted y 
It 'generally happens that a girl living on Twenty-third 
street will ^lect a man living on Front. Philadelphia 
men, however, are long-suffering as a rule, and it is very 
rarely that one hears of a society murder. 

* * 

I was taken to a little tavern on a by-street once, that 
they called the “Widow’s.” It has a reputation for 
excellent old ale, and deserves it. When the little party 
of which I was a member, entered the door, I was sur- 
prised at the rather mixed assemblage which crowded the 
place. On a keg, in one corner, sat a rather short young 


19 


fellow with a turned-up nose. He wore a loud check suit 
and carried an immense bludgeon, which passed muster as 
a cane. When I entered he was amusing the room by 
giving an imitation of Henry Irving. In a little room 
towards the back, a group of some half-dozen idtra society 
men were listening to a groom. I forget what he was 
talking about, but his pronunciation reminded me of my 
stable at Norfolk ; and the boys did not seem to take as 
much interest in what he was saying, as in how he said it. 
I heard one of them, Ned Meringue by name, repeating to 
himself the most accentuated expressions the groom made 
use of, while another fellow, with a downy chin and a 
vacant eye, kept repeating ‘‘aw-aw-awses-aw.” It almost 
brought the tears to my eyes to see one member of the 
little grou]). He seemed to be steeped in a profound 
melancholy, because he could not drop his “h-s” or pro- 
nounce ‘‘dam” with a broad “a”; he either said “dam” 
or “dom.” The two most interesting characters in the 
room were Ned Meringue, whom I mentioned before, and 
a willowy young fellow named Ladder. The latter is 
considered the best dancer in society, but he is not 
thought so much of as Meringue because he is not so 
haughty and is decidedly more polite and agreeable. 


20 


In the centre of another group, I noticed a short man 
with a small moustache, who was always spoken to as 
“Jack.” He seemed to be on familiar terms with every 
man in the place. They told me that he was an authority 
on cattle and girls. 

I went to a concert one night, given by a musical club in 
the city. The male choruses were well enough ; but an 
operatic girl, who had been hired for the evening went in 
for gymnastics with her voice and seemed to think the great 
point was to go on till everyone was dead. They had a 
violinist, ’who also seemed to be laboring under the same 
mistake. But there! don’t let’s talk of it; it’s all over 
now. The people who attend these concerts, are society 
people for the most part, with a few who would be in 
society if they could and think that by attending regularly, 
they will ultimately attain their object. The girls always 
try to get seats along the sides because during the inter- 
misson, the members of the club parade up and down the 
aisles seeking admiration and congratulation, so that the 
girls feel- obliged to be on hand to grant the boon. The 
conductor is one of the great characters, not only of the 
club; but of the town. He is an exceedingly modest 


21 


man, and consequently, will not come on the platform 
with the rest; but walks on after they are seated, so con- 
scious is he of his own inferiority, poor fellow. He walks 
very slowly too, for fear the audience may think him; too 
anxious to show off. On arriving at the music stand,- he 
wheels round until the white light of the bull’s eye is seen 
at the back of hjs head, which is a signal meaning, ‘‘ all’s 
right;” and off goes the chorus. He has to be very 
careful in working this signal, for if he showed too much 
of the white light he might catch cold. 

By the way ; speaking of people who are not in society, 
reminds me. I attended a meeting of the “ Association for 
the promulgation of a better feeling between the northern 
and southern parts of the. city.” And some really very 
good speches were made. The best, however, was 
made by a parson, though no one would have known it if 
they hadn’t been there; for the papers gave it a very poor 
report. One paper said : “ the Rev. Dr. Antimacassa on 
rising to address the meeting, was greeted with applause. 
In the course of his address, the speaker briefly refered to 
the Public Buildings, the cable cars and the drama.” 
Now who on earth could gather any thing from that. 
Whether the Philadelphia papers ever do give a good report 


22 


of anything, I am unable to say : never having seen one. 
Now the following is the Doctor’s speech, taken down 
verbatim, by myself; and published in the ‘^London 
rimes.” It read as follows: — Mr Chairman, Ladies and 
Gentlemen. The ups and downs of Philadelphia life 
consist of people living north and south of Market street, 
the Traction Co. drawing the line. It was on account of 
this social distinction that your City Hall was placed in the 
middle of a busy thoroughfare : for it was to be called 
The Public Buildings ” ; if it had. been put either side of 
the line, how could it have been called public ? If it had 
been put in my back yard, would it have been public ? 
No ! a thousand times, no ! But Market Street is the 
neutral ground, and though as you know the people of the 
south sometimes venture on Arch Street, and the people of 
the north as far as Chestnut, it still remains a fact, that be- 
tween the north and the south, there is a gulf fixed through 
which the dividing line passes. And though it may be 
walked over this cannot be done without danger, both 
physical and social, and people should be dissuaded from 
ever attempting it. For is it not sad to think of the 
many nice girls who are debarred from walking on 
Chestnut street, during the afternoon ; owing to the tem- 


23 


porary invasion of the northern girls ! But I have met 
girls, who from an artistic love of the drama and a dread 
of parental knowledge thereof, have boldly confronted the 
foe, and gone to a matinee. Oh why should these two 
great factors, “ money and blue blood,” remain so long 
estranged. Why should not wealth and poverty go hand 
in hand. But I tell you, the time is not far distant, when 
the uptowners shall stand on one side the gulf ; and the 
downtowners on the other ; and stretching their arms 
across, clasp hands in a solemn vow of never dying union. 
And as they hear the dividing line running from between 
them, let them remember the sad fate of the little news- 
boy, and take warning.” 

* 

* * 

One night I attended a mask ball at the Academy of 
Music. The society men of the city were out in full force ; 
but not the society women ; or if they were they took good 
care that no one should know about it. On entering I saw 
nothing to interest me except the dancing, which was 
criminally bad ; so after having checked my overcoat, I 
proceeded to explore the place. Following a stream of 
people down some stairs, I found myself in the main cellar 
of the building. I felt that I was walking through slush of 


24 


some kind, and when my eyes had got accustomed to the 
dense tobacco smoke, I found it was caused by the in- 
habitants emptying their beer glasses on the floor; and the 
floor being cemented the tide rose higher every minute. 
At the far end of the cellar there was a slight stir, where 
two men of a pugilistic turn of mind were being separated. 
On my right was a huge man embracing a fellow and two 
girls ; showing how much he could do at a pinch I sup- 
pose. On a table close by a man and woman were trying 
to dance the Can-Can to the great amusement of those 
who stood near. At another table were a pile of boys and 
girls singing some rollicking song (I say pile because that is 
the only word that describes them). A man just at the 
back of me, tried to get up stairs but landed on his back 
making a great splash ; after he had been helped up, he 
assured those standing round, that it was all right, he had 
merely slipped. Passing into a cellar beyond I saw some 
men and women of a much quieter disposition, than those 
I had just left. One man especially, was lying on a bench 
perfectly unconscious. I turned away in disgust. On 
re-entering the main cellar my eye fell upon a fellow I had 
met at a card party the night before. He was reeling all 
over the shop and telling all his friends that he felt 


25 


immense;” (when in reality he was very small), and that 
he could lick the lot of them (a man who couldn’t have 
whipped a cat). I was very much interested watching the 
doings of these society men and the time passed very 
quickly. At three o’clock the ball began to break up, and 
some of the men were half carried, half dragged up stairs, 
by their friends. One fellow in particular, presented a 
very pitiable sight ; he was a young lawyer in the city. 
His shirt was besmeared with blood owing to a fall on 
the nose. The people in the cloak rooms were beginning 
to work once more and men stood in long lines waiting 
their turns to come, to get hats, coats, wraps, &c., .&c. 
The proportion of men to women, at this ball was about 
five to one, so that the ladies did not lack attention. One 
man was taking a girl’s place in the line, to get her wrap ; 
she stood by, reclining in another man’s arms. Another 
young lady, was walking between six young fellows, (all 
society men) who took it in turn to be on the inside track. 
Another was being taken round by two men, to kiss her 
admirers, good bye. Coming down stairs, from the 
balcony, was a fellow between two girls all three of them 
roaring full; but fortunately they never seemed to- make 
up their minds, to roll in the same direction, at the same 


26 


time, jso that they were able to sustain their equilibrium. 
Half a dozen poliTemen stood by, amused spectators of 
the scene. 

The ball was a total surprise to me ; and I think, if the 
society girls of the city had been there, it would have 
been a surprise to them. But as one of the city papers 
said later in the day. — “ The ball kept within bounds, and 
even when merriest it never touched disorder.” 

Philadelphians consider themselves very musical, and 
musicales are, therefore, a highly fashionable form of enter- 
tainment. I went to one once, being specially invited to 
sing. I assured the hostess that I had never sung a note 
in my life, but at her earnest solicitation, I was compelled 
to favor the company. I sang “Oh, what a gay world 
this is.” I thought one verse would have been sufficient, 
but they called for more, and I was obliged to run in some 
local ^‘gags” in order to comply with the demand. I was 
rather disappointed though, for even the funniest things in 
the 'darned song never raised a laugh. 

The silence was explained, however, when a young lady 
inquired the name of the composer and, another said : 
“'Don’t you know it’s Wagner.” 


27 


I concluded from this, that these musical people had 
been more interested in the general buzz of conversation 
than in my song. My surmise was correct, for the next 
performer, a full blown young girl of forty or there- 
abouts, made more noise than a cat on hot bricks, and yet 
nobody seemed to hear her. I asked her to do it some 
more, and was supported by a chorus of “ Oh, do. I think 
that’s so lovely ! You know it’s my favorite song,” etc., 
etc., etc. She smiled gushingly and marched back 
triumphantly to the piano. Amid the yells and screams 
which followed, the lady sitting next to me whispered ; 
‘‘It was awfully cruel of you to ask her to sing again. I 
can’t imagine how anyone as musical as you are could do 
such a thing. But I haven’t thanked you yet for your 
song. It comes in Parsifal, doesn’t it?” I think I 
could have killed that girl by simply telling her the truth ; 
but out of respect for the feelings of the angels, who will 
have to endure her singing all too soon for their nerves, I 
refrained. 

One of Philadelphia’s most prominent citizens, I re- 
member, was an old man who was as broad as he was long, 
with fire-escape whiskers. What was his name now? Um, 


28 


I forget.. Well, anyhow, this man was pestered to death 
by all the leading people of America, to allow himself to 
be nominated for President; but he was a good old man, 
who loved his country better than himself, so 'he refused 
the nomination. But very likely you know him, for if I 
remember rightly, he gave a very handsome pump to one 
of our small towns, expressing a hope that it would take 
the place of Home Rule and bind England and Ireland 
together in a closer bond of unity. I didn’t quite under- 
stand how, the pump was to work it, but Americans are so 
inventive you know. This man is known pretty much all 
over the world, I suppose. It is really wonderful how well 
known he is, considering his modest and retiring nature. 
He is so thoughtful, too. I remember he had a very 
severe fall once, and as soon as he had swallowed a cup of 
coffee and a bun, he sent for the British consul and en- 
treated him not to cable the news of his accident to Her 
Majesty, as he was afraid she might think it worse than it 
really was and, he did not wish to alarm her unnecessarily. 
He also offered hundreds of dollars to have the accident 
kept out of the papers, but it was all of no avail. 

But Philadelphia glories in a poet. A poet who in his 
own estimation, soars above her dirty streets and dwells in 


29 


a little sphere all to himself. I can’t give you his name, 
but he has written, or rather translated, a well known 
European play which an American actor has made lots of 
money out of. I don’t think he ever writes anything now, 
but he is nevertheless admired and reverenced as the one 
literary character of the Quaker Town. He exists on the 
reputation he has made and hardly deigns to mix with the 
common herd. 

But he’s not a very interesting character, so I’ll tell you 
about another Philadelphia celebrity. His name is Walter 
Black, and for a number of years he has had supreme con- 
trol over society in general. His command is obeyed 
implicitly, and a word from him will ostracise a debutante 
from society, or place her on a pinnacle to be worshipped 
and hated by her envious sisters. The belles of a ball are 
the girls Mr. Black asks to dance. A careless nod from 
him is considered the end of all things blessed to be 
obtained, by over half the girls in town ; and a careless 
frown has been known to drive many a poor child to the 
lunatic asylum. Pennsylvania is, I believe, a republic, 
but Philadelphia society has nothing republican in its 
composition. It is governed by an autocrat, with some 
few dozen matrons as constables and executioners. 


30 


But to descend from the autocrat to his willing slaves : 
Philadelphia girls of fifteen years of age, know all there is 
to know, or think they do ; no English girl of twenty 
would dream of putting on the airs of some of these pre- 
mature women. Why Philadelphia girls should mature so 
rapidly is perhaps, owing to the climate ; but the reason 
they feel so well up in everything, at such an early age, is 
because there is very little in Philadelphia society to be 
learned. If a girl can dance, that’s all that’s required it 
is not at all necessary that she should be able to talk for 
none of the society girls know how to do that, they are too 
young. The fact is the moment a child can walk, he or 
she is sent to a dancing academy ; and as soon as they 
have learned to dance they are sent out into society to 
learn to talk. As Philadelphia society is almost entirely a 
dancing society, the society people of ten are just as im- 
portant as those of thirty. When the girls, who were 
brought out at ten have had fifteen years of solid dancing, 
they begin to think of music and literature ; but as a rule 
it is too late to begin and their ambition in the way of 
music ends in playing the piano to papa, who wishes the 
instrument was chopped up for kindling wood, but dare 
not say so, for his daughter is a Philadelphia belle, and 


31 


therefore the whole family must bow in humble adoration. 
As for literature, that generally begins and ends with “ Pole 
on Whist,” or the rules of ‘‘Boaston.” There have been, 
though, some bold attempts made in the way of literature. 
One old society man tried to write a play, which a well- 
known actor tried to act and which the audience tried to 
applaud. But the author must have every allowance made 
for him, for when a man or woman, in Philadelphia 
society gets tired of dancing, what is there to do? I 
saw one society woman, (though the society she belonged 
to was very shady) who was utterly tired of dancing, and 
having no other accomplishment, the only thing that 
seemed open to her was the stage. She was determined to 
make a reputation for herself somehow, having lost her old 
one. So she appeared on the boards, and she might just as 
well have been a cat on the tiles, for any notice that was 
taken of her. 

Now, if people would only teach their children at home, 
instead of leaving them for society to bring up, and in- 
graft them with a love of music, literature and art, these 
accomplishments, added to the natural lovliness, which 
Philadelphia girls certainly possess in a remarkable degree, 
would give to Philadelphia a society of which any city 
might be proud. And the present society would be 
looked back upon with contempt, as consisting almost 
entirely of a lot of young marionettes. 

P D - 1. 0. 6 














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